


Declaration

by secretkeeper13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I Love You, Mild Smut, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27591689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretkeeper13/pseuds/secretkeeper13
Summary: Harry and Ginny say those three important words for the first time, but Ginny has something else to tell Harry...
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 24
Kudos: 111





	Declaration

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up in the middle of the night last night, and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went into my WIPs and decided to finish this fic. I hope it brightens someone's day! If you enjoy it, please leave a comment and you'll brighten mine :)

He lay awake in bed, his mind racing as thoughts of death and destruction began to consume him. At once, the silence of the night was punctuated by the sound of squeaking door hinges, followed by creaking stairs. The room was nearly pitch black, save for a patch of moonlight shining through the window shade. 

Instinctively, he grabbed his wand and his glasses from the bedside table. It had been only two weeks since the war ended, and he was still on edge. It didn’t help that sleep had been difficult to come by. The faces of the dead seemed to float in front of him every time he closed his eyes, and when he finally fell asleep, it was fitful, and too often interrupted by nightmares.

A shadowy figure stepped through the doorway. The cool blue glow of wand light illuminated her face. He breathed a sigh of relief and released his wand.

Ginny crouched by Ron’s side, and gently shook his shoulder. “Ron,” she whispered.

Ron’s tall frame sat bolt upright in bed. He was already holding his wand. Harry wondered if he’d fallen asleep with it in his hand, like he did when they were in the tent. 

“Ginny,” Ron said, looking down at her and lowering his arm. “What’s wrong?”

Ginny’s brow was furrowed and her face was etched with concern.

“It’s Hermione.” Ginny spoke in a hushed tone. “She had a nightmare, and she’s asking for you.”

“Shit,” Ron swore, and he stood up, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and throwing it on over his pajama bottoms. 

“She’s really upset,” Ginny said, the worry in her voice apparent. Harry’s stomach twisted at her words. “I tried to calm her down, but she wants you.” 

Ron swore again as he hurried out the door. It was a testament to Ron’s concern, and of all that had happened in the past year, that he didn’t make a joke or comment about leaving them alone together in his bedroom, Harry thought. 

Ginny sighed as she moved to sit on the edge of the camp bed. Harry could tell she was shaken. He took her hand in his. He’d tried to be there for her, even in the chaos of the last two weeks. 

“How bad was it?” Harry asked quietly. 

“Awful,” said Ginny, in a whisper. “She was nearly hysterical when I was able to wake her. I tried to calm her down, but she just kept saying she wanted Ron. I didn’t want to ask her what it was about and upset her more.”

Harry’s stomach twisted with guilt as he thought of the horrible things Hermione had faced in the past year, all because she was helping him. 

“I think it’s getting worse because they’ll be leaving in a few days. She’s really worried about finding her parents and reversing the charm,” Ginny continued, her tone still hushed.

The weight of the guilt in Harry’s stomach increased. He ran his hand that wasn’t holding Ginny’s through his hair as he sighed. “I told her I’d go with them. I don’t feel right not helping her after all she’s done for me this year. But she won’t let me. She says there’s too much that needs to be done here.” 

As Harry’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he could see the ghost of a smile cross Ginny’s face. “That’s true... but I think she wants to have some time alone with Ron too. Which I do not want to think about,” Ginny shuddered. 

Harry chuckled. Ginny looked down at him and smiled. She always knew, instinctively, how to make him feel better. 

He stroked his thumb across her hand, and he realized that she felt cooler than usual.

“Come here,” he said, shifting over in the camp bed and pulling back the quilt to make room for her, “You’re cold.” 

She brought her legs up onto the bed and snuggled under the quilt next to him. He lay on his back, with one arm underneath her as she turned towards him and nestled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder, her palm pressed flat against his chest, her leg resting atop his. He wrapped his other arm across her. 

Suddenly, it struck him that this was the first time they’d ever laid in a bed together. Of course, they’d only ever been alone in a bedroom together once, on his birthday last year, and Ron had interrupted them. Their position was familiar- they’d laid together like this many times by the lake, and even once on a sofa in the common room after everyone else had gone to bed. But there was something so much more intimate about laying with her in a bed, the two of them alone in the still and quiet darkness. 

His heart began to race. He’d imagined he and Ginny in bed together too many times to count over the past nearly two years. The images from his many dreams began to flit across his mind, and he felt his cock stir. But he felt ashamed. That can’t happen now, he told himself sternly. Fred had just died. Everything was still fucked up, despite the war being over. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that lives could’ve been saved if he had done things differently. 

“What are you thinking about,” Ginny said, her soft voice breaking the stillness.

“I just wish...” Harry broke off. He couldn’t put into words how he felt. The “what if’s” had tormented him since the end of the battle. He couldn’t stop his mind from replaying the past year, and thinking of how things could have been different, how Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and the others could’ve all been alive if only he’d figured things out sooner. It didn’t help that he’d had to keep retelling what happened that year- first to Ginny, then to the rest of the Weasleys, and to Kingsley, not to mention the whitewashed version for the public. Each time he recounted what happened, he saw the chances he missed to end it sooner. 

The opportunities were there. The diadem haunted him. He’d held it in his fucking hands. He was so busy trying to hide that stupid book that he hadn’t even noticed what was right in front of him. He should have realized. He’d known about the Horcruxes by then. But he’d missed it, in his self-absorption. And for what? A better Potions grade? 

Ginny moved her hand from his chest to his bicep and lightly stroked it, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. Even in the darkness, he could feel her piercing look. 

“Harry, you can’t blame yourself for any of this. He wouldn’t be gone if not for you. Many more people would be dead. You hardly had anything to go on, but you managed to do it.”

As usual, she knew what he was thinking, and she knew exactly what to say. Her words unknotted the twisting in his stomach, lessened the weight on his chest. He felt that familiar, tender ache inside that he got whenever he thought of Ginny. He’d felt it when he’d stare at her dot on the Map. He’d felt it when they’d kissed after the battle. And now, as he lay with her, holding her. 

He realized that he hadn’t even asked her how she was. He pulled her closer to him and gently stroked her back, his fingers slipping across her long, lovely hair. 

“What about you,” he asked softly, “How are you feeling?” 

She sighed, and he held her tighter. “It’s still... surreal,” she whispered. “I don’t think any of us are ok right now.” She looked up at Harry. “But we will be in time. And we’ve got time now.” 

They did have time. That was perhaps the strangest thing of all to him. Since Voldemort’s return, his life had felt like an egg timer winding down, and after Dumbledore died, it felt like it was down to the last minutes. He’d known Voldemort would be at the end, and his own death seemed inevitable and ever approaching. Now, his future stretched wide and unencumbered in front of him. The possibilities for what the rest of his life could be were seemingly endless. As someone who never had a choice before, it was overwhelming. But, with absolute certainty, the one thing that he knew that he wanted in his future was her. 

He stroked the side of her face, down her jaw line to her chin, and kissed her softly. He pulled away before he could deepen the kiss, not trusting himself, knowing how easy it would be to get carried away, and there were things he needed to say to her. 

“I wasn’t sure sure of anything this past year,” he began, his voice low. “I didn’t know how to do what Dumbledore tasked me with. I didn’t have a clue at times what he really wanted. Or whether I’d ever be able to accomplish it. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” 

He felt her stiffen against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her tighter as he continued. “The only thing I was certain of was... that if I somehow made it through, I wanted to be with you.”

She leaned up and kissed him. He felt a swell of emotion as she deepened the kiss, and he held her tightly as her small body pressed into his. Her hands slid into his hair as he stroked her side. His mind went blank as the only thing he could focus on was Ginny, and the feel of her lips on his. 

“I love you,” she breathed as she broke away. For a moment, he was stunned. He couldn’t remember anyone ever saying those words to him before. Then, a feeling of elation swelled inside him.

“I love you.” The words tumbled easily, unbidden, from his lips, despite that he’d never said them to anyone before, because he did. He loved her. And he knew that he always would. 

He stared at her for a second. Her eyes were shining in the semi-darkness. He cupped her face and brought his lips back to hers. All of the thoughts that had plagued him since the end of the war were gone, wiped away, and replaced by Ginny. He felt joy coursing through him, a feeling he hadn't felt in so long. _She loved him._

His body seemed to move on its own accord as his fingers twined in her hair. He deepened the kiss, and as her tongue brushed against his, they both moaned. In an instant, he was hard. They’d kissed since the war ended, of course, but nothing like this since that kiss they’d shared on his birthday last year. 

His hand left her hair and traveled down to her waist, and moved underneath the hem of her oversized t-shirt. She let out a small gasp as he stroked the smooth skin of her back. He rolled her gently on top of him, and he shuddered as she pressed against him and rolled her hips.

It was as if they were back by the lake at Hogwarts. Ginny kissed down his neck, hot, open mouthed kisses that sent electricity coursing down his spine. She sucked on his pulse point, and he let out a ragged groan. How could he have forgotten how good this felt? 

His hand slid under the front of her shirt and reached the swell of her breast. He cupped it gently, and as his thumb caressed across, she made that breathy “oh,” that had haunted his dreams for the past year.

Suddenly, he heard the unmistakable creak of heavy feet on the stairs. Ginny’s head dropped to his shoulder at the sound. They froze. It took every bit of self control that he had to pull his hand away from her chest.

“Fuck,” he groaned. 

“Not tonight,” she said, smirking, as she rolled off him and sat back up, her hand lightly caressing down his arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Ron’s timing is shit. Twice in a row he’s interrupted that, actually.” 

Harry stared at her, his mouth agape, as the meaning of her words clicked into place. His brain was clouded with a mixture of arousal and elation. Twice? _Did she really mean...._

“Wait,” he said slowly, “Do you mean that on my birthday last year, you wanted to….”

The door flung open, and Ron, bleary eyed and illuminated by his wand, entered. Harry had never been less pleased to see him. 

“How’s Hermione?” Ginny asked, “And nice of you to knock, by the way,” she added sarcastically.

“Better. She’s asleep now,” Ron said. “And why the hell would I knock? It’s my room.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Well you see Ron,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “It’s common courtesy when you know a couple is in a bedroom together to knock before entering. Something that you should learn, you prat.” 

Ron snorted, “Stop being dramatic. It isn’t like you were doing anything. And if you’re referring to last year, you weren’t technically a couple at the time, which was the reason for it in the first place,” he retorted. 

Ginny glared at Ron and shot him the two finger salute. Harry, not for the first time, was struck by his best mate’s inability to read the room. 

Harry, sensing Ginny’s anger, and eager to prevent a sibling row in which what they were actually doing before Ron interrupted was revealed, took her hand in his and stroked it with his thumb.

At his touch, Ginny sighed. “I should go back down. Mum will have kittens if she finds me out of bed.” 

She leaned down and kissed Harry, and she let the kiss linger much longer than a typical peck, despite Ron’s noise of disgust from across the room. 

Her lips grazed his ear as they broke apart. “I love you,” she murmured, quietly, so that only he could hear her.

Harry beamed at her, and he pulled her back down to him and kissed her again, ignoring Ron’s “ugh.” 

“I love you too,” he breathed into her ear as they pulled apart. 

Ron’s voice sounded from across the room, “I hope you’re done,” he said, “because I really don’t want to watch this.” He made a vague gesture between the two of them. 

“Oh, we’re far from done,” Ginny said sweetly, “But you’re killing the mood, so we’ll reconvene without you later.” 

Ron snorted. 

Ginny stood and walked to the door. “Goodnight,” she said. “Oh and Harry,” she added, turning around as she reached the door. “About your birthday, the answer is yes. Definitely.” 

Ginny winked at him, flipped her hair over her shoulder, opened the door, and was gone, leaving Harry stunned (not to mention incredibly turned on) in her wake. 

“What about your birthday, mate?” Ron asked. 

“Oh, erm, nothing,” Harry said hastily, trying desperately to think of anything aside from the fact that Ginny wanted to have sex with him, and had since last year. “We were just discussing, um, plans.” 

“Yeah, I reckon we should have a big party for you this year, since last year’s was shit owing to Voldemort and all,” Ron mused. 

“Er, yeah,” said Harry, trying to keep his lips from twitching, “Voldemort ruined my birthday last year for sure.” 

“Well, it’ll be better this year.”

“Definitely,” Harry said, thinking only about Ginny. 

“Night mate,” said Ron as he laid down in bed. 

“Night Ron,” Harry replied, exhaling a deep breath. 

The sound of Ron’s snores soon filled the room. Harry still couldn’t sleep, but this time, it was for an entirely different (and far more pleasant reason) than usual.


End file.
